Title: Harder to Breathe
Title: Harder to Breathe
Pairing: Kadam (yes, that really just happened)
Word Count: 2438
Summary: Adam attends at the Winter Showcase with a few apples and blown away by a surprise performer.
AN: The attending Apples are Joey Richter and the small blond girl. I need them to give the Apples names. :P
The Apples had never really fancied The Winter Showcase.
It wasn’t quite the pomp, or the circumstance. (They quite loved pomp, actually, under the right circumstances.) No, it was the falseness of it all. Everyone knew that the students were hand-selected by Madam Tibideaux. The type of performers that choked on their own privilege. They were the Careers to everyone one else’s scrappy Seam dwellers, just struggling to survive here. And it wasn’t as though Ol’ Tib was showing off the cream of their foppish little crop; she was parading her favorites in front of the alums, assorted directors, glitterati, future employers, and who’s-who of the theatre world. It was a hand up for those with extra arms, and several of the Apples had outright refused to ever, ever go.
It was as much a tradition for them as any of their group activities, Adam supposed. Even when it had just been him and a few of his mates, the only folks he thought of as his, before he’d ever gotten the notion of fussing about with paperwork and making their group a real thing. Even that first year, Jude and Laurie had decided to go on an adventure in New York (meaning, get good and lost and see what happened) in protest, and Adam had gone alone, feeling all the more like an outsider.
Tonight he’d wrangled Joey into coming with him, on the claim that freshmen were performing in this one, so they might be able to do some recruiting. Joey had argued pretty bluntly that any freshman that got a Golden Ticket straight away wasn’t going to be the kind who would join their merry band of misfits and thieves (although My denied she’d had anything to do with the Cassie July incident). Adam supposed that Joey was right, but he appreciated the company, and little Kiera had tagged along to whisper dark naughty things in Joey’s ear. And also likely to see how the others would react to her “formal wear”: a crisp white men’s suit with shiny blue collar and cuffs and wingtip shoes from Lil’ Misters.
Adam liked to go, though. He enjoyed seeing what people had to offer, even if they tended not to see what his friends had. And any chance he could take in some of the best work of their dancers, he appreciated. People forgot at times, how little credit dancers tended to get, and especially now, since poor Cas hadn’t been brought along to the auditions for the previous year and there’d been such a fuss with her and Tib getting into a row after Cas called her out for sending her such bleeping terrible dancers.
Cas’s current favorite was up there tonight. Alexandra went first, something Cas looked a bit cross about. No doubt Tib had made poor Alex take the first slot because she’d always been more invested in the Broadway girls. Alexandra seemed to be holding her own, though. The Round Room was made for singers, but Alexandra sprung quickly on point and began dancing about like a crazed spright. Kiera grew quiet and got that lopsided grin on that told Adam that she’d like to “congratulate” Alexandra after the number, if only Mainstreamer sorts talked to Apples.
The dance was done too soon, and Adam leaned over to Joey to make a comment about the list of performers on the program. There was one other dancer, and someone doing a dramatic monologue, but otherwise, they were in for a string of Broadway-type ballads, likely. Not that Adam had a problem with Broadway, really, but the over the top drama tended to get a bit... boring after a bit.
And he wasn’t wrong. He enjoyed Tre’s performance, although he stumbled a bit during the beginning of his monologue. After that there were three singers one after the other, and Adam started to doze in the latter half of the last girl’s song... until she hit a particularly powerful crescendo and startled him out of his seat. He felt a bit bad, because it was rather rude to do that to a performer.
But it didn’t seem to bother her, or the rest of the audience. She got great applause, and suddenly everyone stood (and as it would be a bit mean not to, Adam stood as well and clapped along, as she was really quite good and it wasn’t kind to let his sleepiness ruin her performance). Adam’s head turned as he heard Weston shout “Encore!” and with a look to Tibideaux, the girl moved to signal to the musicians again.
Adam crossed his arms over himself and tilted his head to the side. This was for the alums, yes, but it was also very much a competition. Getting to do another piece was a bit of an unfair advantage, but Tibideaux continued looking on as though nothing were amiss, so Adam sat back and grabbed the program to ID the girl. Rachel Berry. Hm. He’d heard the name. Had he seen her perform somewhere?
He blinked hard while Berry launched into a fair version of “O Holy Night” and thought perhaps having to be slotted right before the break might even things out. Though this was his least favorite holiday number. It had a dirge-like quality.
As she finished her second piece, applauses sounded again, and Tibideaux came to the front to tell everyone that her favorite was indeed wonderful... No, superb! and announce the intermission.
“-and when we come back, if he thinks he's ready,” Tibideaux continued, “we'll have a performance from Mr. Hummel.”
She spoke so calmly and definitively that Adam just rolled his shoulders and lifted his program up so that Joey and Kiera could see if they liked, but his two compatriots seemed much more interested in the room. Kiera covered her mouth and let her eyes go buggy as she looked around.
“What’s this?” Adam lifted his head and saw the Berry girl following a man in a sharply tailored suit jacket and camouflage print pants, who was departing the room quickly.
“He’s not on the program,” Kiera hissed. She leaned far forward, then hopped up trying to see over the other people. “Wow. He looked a little freaked out.”
“Guess Tibbs doesn’t think he’s ready.” Joey stretched his arms over his head. “Who do you think he is? Some alum’s kid?”
“She’s never let someone outside of the uni in before... although she is dean now. I reckon she can do whatever she likes.” Adam stood slowly and looked toward the door, feeling the urge to follow, perhaps to find some way to make the poor bloke feel better. If he didn’t return, that would be the end of his hopes here, that was for damn sure. And if he returned and blew it, the same result. Only with added shame in front of people who would have say in his continued (or not) career. Nowhere to go, really.
Eventually Joey and Kiera pulled him to the side, and they exchanged notes on those who had performed so far. Adam was partial to Alexandra, as was Kiera (though she hardly counted since she wasn’t judging on merit but tight, muscular thighs). There was little arguing that the Berry girl who had just sung would curry favor with the judges, simply because of Tibideaux’s preference. It didn’t hurt that she’d sung her first piece, the one they should judge on quite flawlessly (even if it had put Adam a bit to sleep).
When Mr. Hummel returned, the crowd began their applause, and he moved towards the front with his back and shoulders stiff and his arms held close to his body. He gave one quick, nervous glance to the audience and made a beeline for the orchestra.
“Hi, I’m Kurt Hummel, and I’ll be auditioning for the role of... NYADA student.”
Adam chuckled softly. He realized that he recognized the young man. He’d seen him once or twice around Callbacks, but never once seen him sing. Adam had figured that he was someone’s boyfriend, hanging around these theatre folks, but somehow apart from it all.
But, no. He was a second semester applicant singing for his life. Adam wondered what Kurt Hummel had done to piss Tibideaux off.
“Tonight I’m going to perform a song that I’ve loved since I was six.” His large, graceful hands clasped and unclasped. “But um, I think for the first time in my life, I uh, finally understand what it means.”
“I like his rooster hair,” Kiera whispered.
Adam gave her a nudge. He watched the young man’s eyes. They flickered over the faces in front of him as the opening chords played. And then suddenly, it was clear that the audience had disappeared. They no longer existed for Kurt in any real way. Adam leaned forward as Kurt’s eyes cast downward and he began to sing to himself.
“Someone to hold you too close.” His voice rang through the room, his tone clear, but dark and rich. “Someone to hurt you too deep.” Adam’s fingers touched his lips. He was aware that Joey and Kiera’s eyes were on him, but his focus could not break away from the man singing before him. The lyrics were for someone much older. Not for someone so young and fresh, but his voice, his eyes, the way he held himself. As he sang, Adam heard raw pain, and regret, and the voice of someone who had considered, even briefly, the other option. Of perhaps not “Being Alive.” Of giving up on connecting with people.
The longer he sang, the more layers wove into the story he was telling. He stood up there, nearly motionless because he was exposing fresh wounds before this crowd of privileged few, who already had their place, their security.
Adam swallowed. Kurt’s tone changed, his expression flickered, just slightly, into something new.
“Somebody hold me too close,” he asked, admitting that he still wanted the trouble of someone who would hurt him too deep. Each like was punctuated by a silent plea-- Please.
The music swelled, his hands rose slightly as he was moved by the swell of emotion within him. His eyes were already getting a bit misty, but the pain did not break his voice. Instead, his voice sailed on over the music, over all those watching. Adam touched his own cheek, wiping tears away as the tone changed again, and Kurt powered through the final refrain.
“Somebody crowd me with love! Somebody force me to care!” he demanded.
And Adam knew as he tried to catch his breath, that when Kurt sang about helping each other survive, that he’d had to do just that in his life. This was no performance. He was exposing his life to them. Adam put his hand over his chest, forcing air through his tightened throat. His lips parted slightly, feeling his body pulled forward through the force of Kurt’s emotional power as he built to the finish.
“Be-ing Aa-liiiive!”
“Oh god,” Adam mouthed. He blinked a few times as he began clapping his hands together so hard they stung. He managed to break his gaze from Kurt, who was looking at the audience anxiously once more, coming out of his mental space of performing and facing the crowd again, and turned to Joey and Kiera.
“Wow!” Kiera mouthed. She hopped up just as others were moving into a standing ovation, and Joey followed, looking stunned.
Adam caught Kurt’s expression again as he rose. His eyes were wide, and he took in the applause, and a whoop from Joey, as though he didn’t quite know what to do with their noises of approval. Kurt sucked in his lower lip briefly and swallowed.
A little laugh escaped Adam’s lips, and he found himself grinning shamelessly. Kurt seemed to catch a breath, and then finally offered them a smile. Adam’s cheeks burned with warmth. His hands hurt from the clapping, but he couldn’t care.
Kurt gave a little nod, thanked them, and scurried through the seats back to Berry. Madam Tibideaux returned to the front of the room to announce the next Showcase candidate.
Meanwhile, Adam fought to catch his own breath, and he kept catching his eyes drift back over to Kurt. How could he still look so nervous after a performance like that? How could he not look as triumphant as he did when unleashing those last four notes? In Adam’s mind, this had to be it. Tibideaux simply had to admit him after a performance like that. But Kurt’s posture and expression spoke only to uncertainty.
Moments later, the next singer was hard at work, trying to follow Kurt’s utterly, utterly breathtaking performance (not quite humanly possible, poor bloke), and Kurt crossed his legs and watched the singer with rapt attention. He smoothed his palms against his camouflage pants (Adam couldn’t get over those, actually), and a light smile settled onto his face.
Adam settled back in his seat and drew in another breath slowly. His mind replayed that brief moment as Kurt’s tongue darted out and he’d sucked in his lip, looking young and vulnerable and expecting harsh judgement... or perhaps laughter? The image caused a strange little tug inside Adam’s belly.
“We have to get him in the Apples,” Adam whispered to Joey.
Joey raised his brows and looked up at the Brody-clone belting out a technically good but nuance-free rendition of version of “Wishing You Were Here” from Phantom, then pursed his lips into deep frown and shook his head.
“No.” Adam touched Joey’s elbow and motioned toward where Kurt was sitting.
Joey’s pout upturned, and he nodded vigorously and shoved both thumbs in the air. Adam grinned and looked toward Kurt again. Now he had a little line creased into his brow, and his fingers curled over his lips. Someone didn’t approve of this interpretation. Not at all.
Somehow the censorious expression tickled just as well.
They had to have him. They needed him. If Tibideaux rejected Kurt, the Apples were going to have a protest.
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth.
comments posted there. Please comment there using OpenID or your DW account.
Pairing: Kadam (yes, that really just happened)
Word Count: 2438
Summary: Adam attends at the Winter Showcase with a few apples and blown away by a surprise performer.
AN: The attending Apples are Joey Richter and the small blond girl. I need them to give the Apples names. :P
The Apples had never really fancied The Winter Showcase.
It wasn’t quite the pomp, or the circumstance. (They quite loved pomp, actually, under the right circumstances.) No, it was the falseness of it all. Everyone knew that the students were hand-selected by Madam Tibideaux. The type of performers that choked on their own privilege. They were the Careers to everyone one else’s scrappy Seam dwellers, just struggling to survive here. And it wasn’t as though Ol’ Tib was showing off the cream of their foppish little crop; she was parading her favorites in front of the alums, assorted directors, glitterati, future employers, and who’s-who of the theatre world. It was a hand up for those with extra arms, and several of the Apples had outright refused to ever, ever go.
It was as much a tradition for them as any of their group activities, Adam supposed. Even when it had just been him and a few of his mates, the only folks he thought of as his, before he’d ever gotten the notion of fussing about with paperwork and making their group a real thing. Even that first year, Jude and Laurie had decided to go on an adventure in New York (meaning, get good and lost and see what happened) in protest, and Adam had gone alone, feeling all the more like an outsider.
Tonight he’d wrangled Joey into coming with him, on the claim that freshmen were performing in this one, so they might be able to do some recruiting. Joey had argued pretty bluntly that any freshman that got a Golden Ticket straight away wasn’t going to be the kind who would join their merry band of misfits and thieves (although My denied she’d had anything to do with the Cassie July incident). Adam supposed that Joey was right, but he appreciated the company, and little Kiera had tagged along to whisper dark naughty things in Joey’s ear. And also likely to see how the others would react to her “formal wear”: a crisp white men’s suit with shiny blue collar and cuffs and wingtip shoes from Lil’ Misters.
Adam liked to go, though. He enjoyed seeing what people had to offer, even if they tended not to see what his friends had. And any chance he could take in some of the best work of their dancers, he appreciated. People forgot at times, how little credit dancers tended to get, and especially now, since poor Cas hadn’t been brought along to the auditions for the previous year and there’d been such a fuss with her and Tib getting into a row after Cas called her out for sending her such bleeping terrible dancers.
Cas’s current favorite was up there tonight. Alexandra went first, something Cas looked a bit cross about. No doubt Tib had made poor Alex take the first slot because she’d always been more invested in the Broadway girls. Alexandra seemed to be holding her own, though. The Round Room was made for singers, but Alexandra sprung quickly on point and began dancing about like a crazed spright. Kiera grew quiet and got that lopsided grin on that told Adam that she’d like to “congratulate” Alexandra after the number, if only Mainstreamer sorts talked to Apples.
The dance was done too soon, and Adam leaned over to Joey to make a comment about the list of performers on the program. There was one other dancer, and someone doing a dramatic monologue, but otherwise, they were in for a string of Broadway-type ballads, likely. Not that Adam had a problem with Broadway, really, but the over the top drama tended to get a bit... boring after a bit.
And he wasn’t wrong. He enjoyed Tre’s performance, although he stumbled a bit during the beginning of his monologue. After that there were three singers one after the other, and Adam started to doze in the latter half of the last girl’s song... until she hit a particularly powerful crescendo and startled him out of his seat. He felt a bit bad, because it was rather rude to do that to a performer.
But it didn’t seem to bother her, or the rest of the audience. She got great applause, and suddenly everyone stood (and as it would be a bit mean not to, Adam stood as well and clapped along, as she was really quite good and it wasn’t kind to let his sleepiness ruin her performance). Adam’s head turned as he heard Weston shout “Encore!” and with a look to Tibideaux, the girl moved to signal to the musicians again.
Adam crossed his arms over himself and tilted his head to the side. This was for the alums, yes, but it was also very much a competition. Getting to do another piece was a bit of an unfair advantage, but Tibideaux continued looking on as though nothing were amiss, so Adam sat back and grabbed the program to ID the girl. Rachel Berry. Hm. He’d heard the name. Had he seen her perform somewhere?
He blinked hard while Berry launched into a fair version of “O Holy Night” and thought perhaps having to be slotted right before the break might even things out. Though this was his least favorite holiday number. It had a dirge-like quality.
As she finished her second piece, applauses sounded again, and Tibideaux came to the front to tell everyone that her favorite was indeed wonderful... No, superb! and announce the intermission.
“-and when we come back, if he thinks he's ready,” Tibideaux continued, “we'll have a performance from Mr. Hummel.”
She spoke so calmly and definitively that Adam just rolled his shoulders and lifted his program up so that Joey and Kiera could see if they liked, but his two compatriots seemed much more interested in the room. Kiera covered her mouth and let her eyes go buggy as she looked around.
“What’s this?” Adam lifted his head and saw the Berry girl following a man in a sharply tailored suit jacket and camouflage print pants, who was departing the room quickly.
“He’s not on the program,” Kiera hissed. She leaned far forward, then hopped up trying to see over the other people. “Wow. He looked a little freaked out.”
“Guess Tibbs doesn’t think he’s ready.” Joey stretched his arms over his head. “Who do you think he is? Some alum’s kid?”
“She’s never let someone outside of the uni in before... although she is dean now. I reckon she can do whatever she likes.” Adam stood slowly and looked toward the door, feeling the urge to follow, perhaps to find some way to make the poor bloke feel better. If he didn’t return, that would be the end of his hopes here, that was for damn sure. And if he returned and blew it, the same result. Only with added shame in front of people who would have say in his continued (or not) career. Nowhere to go, really.
Eventually Joey and Kiera pulled him to the side, and they exchanged notes on those who had performed so far. Adam was partial to Alexandra, as was Kiera (though she hardly counted since she wasn’t judging on merit but tight, muscular thighs). There was little arguing that the Berry girl who had just sung would curry favor with the judges, simply because of Tibideaux’s preference. It didn’t hurt that she’d sung her first piece, the one they should judge on quite flawlessly (even if it had put Adam a bit to sleep).
When Mr. Hummel returned, the crowd began their applause, and he moved towards the front with his back and shoulders stiff and his arms held close to his body. He gave one quick, nervous glance to the audience and made a beeline for the orchestra.
“Hi, I’m Kurt Hummel, and I’ll be auditioning for the role of... NYADA student.”
Adam chuckled softly. He realized that he recognized the young man. He’d seen him once or twice around Callbacks, but never once seen him sing. Adam had figured that he was someone’s boyfriend, hanging around these theatre folks, but somehow apart from it all.
But, no. He was a second semester applicant singing for his life. Adam wondered what Kurt Hummel had done to piss Tibideaux off.
“Tonight I’m going to perform a song that I’ve loved since I was six.” His large, graceful hands clasped and unclasped. “But um, I think for the first time in my life, I uh, finally understand what it means.”
“I like his rooster hair,” Kiera whispered.
Adam gave her a nudge. He watched the young man’s eyes. They flickered over the faces in front of him as the opening chords played. And then suddenly, it was clear that the audience had disappeared. They no longer existed for Kurt in any real way. Adam leaned forward as Kurt’s eyes cast downward and he began to sing to himself.
“Someone to hold you too close.” His voice rang through the room, his tone clear, but dark and rich. “Someone to hurt you too deep.” Adam’s fingers touched his lips. He was aware that Joey and Kiera’s eyes were on him, but his focus could not break away from the man singing before him. The lyrics were for someone much older. Not for someone so young and fresh, but his voice, his eyes, the way he held himself. As he sang, Adam heard raw pain, and regret, and the voice of someone who had considered, even briefly, the other option. Of perhaps not “Being Alive.” Of giving up on connecting with people.
The longer he sang, the more layers wove into the story he was telling. He stood up there, nearly motionless because he was exposing fresh wounds before this crowd of privileged few, who already had their place, their security.
Adam swallowed. Kurt’s tone changed, his expression flickered, just slightly, into something new.
“Somebody hold me too close,” he asked, admitting that he still wanted the trouble of someone who would hurt him too deep. Each like was punctuated by a silent plea-- Please.
The music swelled, his hands rose slightly as he was moved by the swell of emotion within him. His eyes were already getting a bit misty, but the pain did not break his voice. Instead, his voice sailed on over the music, over all those watching. Adam touched his own cheek, wiping tears away as the tone changed again, and Kurt powered through the final refrain.
“Somebody crowd me with love! Somebody force me to care!” he demanded.
And Adam knew as he tried to catch his breath, that when Kurt sang about helping each other survive, that he’d had to do just that in his life. This was no performance. He was exposing his life to them. Adam put his hand over his chest, forcing air through his tightened throat. His lips parted slightly, feeling his body pulled forward through the force of Kurt’s emotional power as he built to the finish.
“Be-ing Aa-liiiive!”
“Oh god,” Adam mouthed. He blinked a few times as he began clapping his hands together so hard they stung. He managed to break his gaze from Kurt, who was looking at the audience anxiously once more, coming out of his mental space of performing and facing the crowd again, and turned to Joey and Kiera.
“Wow!” Kiera mouthed. She hopped up just as others were moving into a standing ovation, and Joey followed, looking stunned.
Adam caught Kurt’s expression again as he rose. His eyes were wide, and he took in the applause, and a whoop from Joey, as though he didn’t quite know what to do with their noises of approval. Kurt sucked in his lower lip briefly and swallowed.
A little laugh escaped Adam’s lips, and he found himself grinning shamelessly. Kurt seemed to catch a breath, and then finally offered them a smile. Adam’s cheeks burned with warmth. His hands hurt from the clapping, but he couldn’t care.
Kurt gave a little nod, thanked them, and scurried through the seats back to Berry. Madam Tibideaux returned to the front of the room to announce the next Showcase candidate.
Meanwhile, Adam fought to catch his own breath, and he kept catching his eyes drift back over to Kurt. How could he still look so nervous after a performance like that? How could he not look as triumphant as he did when unleashing those last four notes? In Adam’s mind, this had to be it. Tibideaux simply had to admit him after a performance like that. But Kurt’s posture and expression spoke only to uncertainty.
Moments later, the next singer was hard at work, trying to follow Kurt’s utterly, utterly breathtaking performance (not quite humanly possible, poor bloke), and Kurt crossed his legs and watched the singer with rapt attention. He smoothed his palms against his camouflage pants (Adam couldn’t get over those, actually), and a light smile settled onto his face.
Adam settled back in his seat and drew in another breath slowly. His mind replayed that brief moment as Kurt’s tongue darted out and he’d sucked in his lip, looking young and vulnerable and expecting harsh judgement... or perhaps laughter? The image caused a strange little tug inside Adam’s belly.
“We have to get him in the Apples,” Adam whispered to Joey.
Joey raised his brows and looked up at the Brody-clone belting out a technically good but nuance-free rendition of version of “Wishing You Were Here” from Phantom, then pursed his lips into deep frown and shook his head.
“No.” Adam touched Joey’s elbow and motioned toward where Kurt was sitting.
Joey’s pout upturned, and he nodded vigorously and shoved both thumbs in the air. Adam grinned and looked toward Kurt again. Now he had a little line creased into his brow, and his fingers curled over his lips. Someone didn’t approve of this interpretation. Not at all.
Somehow the censorious expression tickled just as well.
They had to have him. They needed him. If Tibideaux rejected Kurt, the Apples were going to have a protest.
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth.
comments posted there. Please comment there using OpenID or your DW account.